Don't judge a box by it's color

I think I mentioned a few months ago that I'd finally figured out my hair color. Yes, it's a first world problem, but silver hair does not go well with my complexion, and I'm on track to be fully gray before I'm 35, which is unacceptable.

If you're new around these parts, this is my natural hair color. I'd call it light to medium brown. The horrific overhead lighting doesn't do it justice.

Me as a redhead. Nice, no?

I was happy with the result, until I noticed that the red didn't hold up too well in the pool. I was getting brassy, and as the color would fade, the gray would emerge.  This wasn't cool. Also, once the novelty wore off, I was a little confused when I caught myself in the mirror. It was time to go back to my roots (pun absolutely intended).

This process was so much easier in college, when my choices were Manic Panic blue or green.  But matching your hair color - or desired color - to the shade on the box is not an exact science. And being somewhat poor in my unemployed state, I'm not about to fork over $100 to my stylist, no matter how much I love her. So I'm on my own.

I narrowed it down to a couple of browns in the medium light shade. I stood in the very narrow hair dye aisle at my neighborhood Walgreens for at least 10 minutes, debating, before I went with medium golden brown.

I followed the instructions, left the dye on the appropriate amount of time, and didn't permanently mar any of the white porcelain fixtures in my bathroom. And yet, I'd have to say medium golden brown, at least on my head, looks a little darker, and a lot less golden, than I'd expected.

Or a lot darker, even when I'm not wearing white and standing in my white-tiled bathroom. I'm rocking a kind of goth look right now. But I figure I've got a lock on Morticia Addams costumes in a few weeks, so I can mostly pass off my mistake as getting a head start on Halloween this year.